


The Fuse is Lit, so Stand Back and Watch it Burn

by stargazerdaisy



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, HYDRA Reveal, Heartbreak, Meta, nothing personal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 10:53:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5866609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargazerdaisy/pseuds/stargazerdaisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She knew.  And he knew she knew.  But if they didn’t say it out loud, maybe they could just get out of here.  He pleaded with her, using his eyes.  <i>Please Skye, trust me one last time.  Then I’ll explain everything.</i>   </p><p> </p><p>  <i>A meta of the Skye/Ward scenes in 1x20 "Nothing Personal" from Grant's perspective.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fuse is Lit, so Stand Back and Watch it Burn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Aka the scenes where Brett Dalton and Chloe Bennet ruin my life with their top notch acting. And I had to watch them over and over and over again to get the details right, and I'm pretty sure I'll never recover.
> 
> (Evie, this is for you. Just remember, you asked for it!)

Something was obviously up with Skye. It’s not like she normally had much focus or a lengthy attention span, but this is jittery, even for her. The sound of her typing away on the laptop was something he’d gotten so used to, it was practically soothing. He knew the rhythm of her keystrokes as well as he knew the cadence to her punching the bag. _As well as I know the sound of her heartbeat._ Today, however, something was off-key. She was starting and stopping and couldn’t seem to get into a groove. It was setting his teeth on edge, as if he needed something else to worry about. 

It weighed on him. _How is this going to play out?_ Ward was a top tier strategist, the best after Romanoff. He always had a plan and was three steps ahead of everyone else; it was how he had survived his entire life. But this time he had no plan. He could scarcely see where he was going next. Right now he could only say two things for sure. He needed to get the information to Garrett as quickly as possible. And he would do anything to keep Skye safe. The problem was, he wasn’t positive he could accomplish both. In fact, he was pretty confident that this would end in a failure on his part. The question was: which one would he end up failing?

He looked at Skye again, trying to figure out what was going on with her. There was no way she knew what was really going on here, right? 

“You're staring again,” she huffs.

That caught him off guard, but he quickly recovered, “I'm not allowed to do that?”

“I told you, it's a complicated hack.”

This whole time he watched her, but really she had been watching him just as closely. He couldn’t risk tipping her off to anything. “Um... you've mistaken my admiration for impatience.”

She didn’t let it go, “No, it's impatience.”

“Okay. Sorry. Didn't mean to stress you out,” he quickly placated her. He needed to keep her focused and working and arguing with her only made that worse. 

“Maybe you should duck outside. Try again on the sat-phone just to make sure.”

“No,” he replied, almost too quickly. “We stick together and we stick to the plan. The sooner you decrypt this hard drive…”

“The sooner we get to them,” she sighed. “I heard you twice the first time.”

It had been awhile she lashed out at him quite like this. The last few days had given their communication a softer touch. Still playful, but the sharp barbs had faded, as they had opened up to each other more than ever before. He changed tactics once again, “Are you alright?” He reached out to touch her hand, “You look nervous.”

Not missing a beat, she deflected right back at him. “How can you tell, superspy?”

He remembered to continue being the SO she knew and trusted, even adding a smile he wasn’t sure he felt in the moment, “Staying unnaturally still to keep from fidgeting, maintaining eye contact to give the impression of confidence. What's wrong?”

Skye visibly flinched and pulled her hand away, looking around, as if she didn’t want anyone to see her touching him. “The last time I was in this booth, I was sitting across from Mike Peterson ... a good man, and now he's a murderer. And we are FBI's most wanted. It's just,” she pauses. “Like any moment, something could go horribly wrong.” That was a feeling he knew all too well. _It’s how I’m feeling right now._

“Relax. You're doing great.” He did his best to exude confidence and reassurance, but he practically felt her seeing through the mask. 

“Hiding what I'm thinking and feeling, it doesn't come as easy for me as it does for you,” the disbelief was easy to hear in her voice. It nagged at him that she meant more than what she was saying, that there was a deeper layer to her words. 

He didn’t even have to think before he responded, “Well, it comes with experience.”

She sighed loudly. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

He was definitely worried now. Skye knew something, he didn’t know what or how much, but she either knew or suspected he had ulterior motives here. That could only prove dangerous, for both of them. But in that moment, there was nothing else to say.

Ever the Specialist, Ward noted as two uniformed officers strolled into the diner and casually took a seat at the bar. Thus far, they didn’t take any extra notice of him and Skye, but he knew it was only a matter of time. He pulled out his menu and pretended to look at it, while keeping one eye on the cops and the other on the possible escape routes. It wasn’t the time to confront Skye on whatever was going on, so he would just do it his job, keep her working and safe. Focusing on the mission was always something at which he excelled. _That is what got me into this mess to start with._

Another hour later, a third cup of coffee is set down next to her. Their meals had been finished for some time now, and he knew their time for remaining here inconspicuously was coming to an end. His senses screamed at him more by the second. The cops lingered and cast way too many looks in their direction than was plausible. _Do they know who we are?_ He hadn’t done anything wrong. There was no reason he and Skye shouldn’t be thought of as anything more than an average couple out for lunch. But the feeling didn’t go away that something was wrong and the cops were there for him. His impatience and concern were getting the better of him and he knew his jumpiness was becoming visible.

He sighed audibly, “How much longer?”

She didn’t even look up, “Half-hour.”

“You said that a half an hour ago,” he snapped back.

She paused then, and took a sip of her coffee, looking more at ease than she had been, “Weren't you the one who told me to relax?”

His fidgeting really was getting obnoxious, betraying the anxiety he felt, even though he knew he couldn’t afford to let anyone know. “Those cops over there keep looking at us,” he said softly.

Skye looked up at him, then glanced over at the cops, and refocused on the screen in front of her, dismissing him, “They're just checking out the waitress. They don't know you're pretending to be someone you're not.”

What was that supposed to mean? He refused to give in to his panic, chuckling instead. “Yeah, all right. Who am I pretending to be?” 

“My impatient boyfriend,” she smirked.

“I like that cover.” And he did.

But his face stilled as he watched yet another police car drive past the diner and park down the street. He took a deep breath and started scanning the room yet again, re-checking the exit routes, cataloging possible weapons, and calculating the odds of getting them out with as minimal collateral damage as possible. 

“What's the longest you've been undercover? Like, deep undercover?” She caught him off guard once more.

“Uh... Uh, 16 months,” he remarked distractedly as he noted where all the patrons were sitting.

“When was that?”

“Mm, about five years outside of the academy. I posed as a Russian attaché at the embassy in Warsaw.” Somehow answering her got him to settle just a bit and focus on her. 

“That's got to be so hard, living a double life like that ... getting close to people, only to turn on them.” She scoffed, “I don't know how Garrett did it.”

“Garrett?” _Where the hell is she going with this?_

“Think about all that time he spent as your S.O. ... getting to know you, being your mentor ... only to lie to your face, betray you like that,” she continued brazenly.

His gut twisted even tighter. _She knows._ He could tell she was talking about him, not about Garrett. She knew so much more than she was letting on, and the weight of the moment was pressing down on him. But he couldn’t stop trying to maintain his cover and keep a handle on the situation that was rapidly escalating beyond him. “It was, uh, difficult to accept. But thankfully, that's over.”

“Because you took care of him.” She was baiting him, it was so clear.

 _What does she expect is going to happen?_ They were in the middle of a very public diner, with several cops milling around, continuously looking at them. This was not the time to have lay all the cards on the table. It would only end in pain, capture, and probable death. “Can we not discuss this right now?”

Without missing a beat, she countered, “If you had one more moment before you shot him in the back of the head so heroically.” The sarcastic smile of hers was a threatening stack of dynamite and he was too close to the impending explosion. “If he was sitting right here and you could say anything you want, what would you say?” 

“Skye,” he warned.

“Would you say he's disgusting?” Contempt dripped from each word. “Would you tell him he's a disgusting, backstabbing traitor? Or to rot in hell?” The fuse was lit. He could practically see the flame racing towards him.

“What are you doing?” There was no way out of this now. He was doomed and she would be dragged along with him. If she knew what was truly going on, she would refuse to cooperate, which meant Garrett would find other ways to get her to comply. He would probably make Ward be the enforcer. It clawed at Grant’s insides to even think of hurting Skye, but the inevitability was staring him down. All this raced through his mind in the time it took to blink three times. He didn’t realize his heartbreak was starting to shine through his eyes. 

“I'm just trying to have an honest conversation for once,” she sneered.

All he could do was stare at her. There was no going back, there was no way out. His world was crashing down around him. A world he never knew he had, let alone that he actually wanted. She knew. And now she was lost to him. He couldn’t be her Grant Ward anymore, she would never let him again. 

She knew. And he knew she knew. But if they didn’t say it out loud, maybe they could just get out of here. He pleaded with her, using his eyes. _Please Skye, trust me one last time. Then I’ll explain everything._

Movement over her shoulder caught his eye. The cops were actually telling people to leave the building. His instincts had been right. They were here for him and Skye. He was sure he could take on these two soft beat cops, and get out unscathed, but if Skye wasn’t willing to go with him, how could he manage all of that? He was Agent Grant Ward, Specialist for SHIELD, traitor for Hydra. He would contain the situation. It was all he had left.

He reached to gather their things and slide out of the booth, “They're starting to clear people out. We should go.”

“No, I think I'm good here.” She settled herself more firmly into her seat and started tapping away at the laptop again.

“Skye, we've been made. Come on,” he chided. 

“No.” She spun the laptop screen to show him. “I tipped them off. Hail Hydra.”

The air was sucked out of his lungs, he couldn’t move. His own face stared back at him, with the words “WANTED FUGITIVE” screaming in red. It was a police dispatch report, telling all the police officers in LA that he was a terrorist and must be apprehended. He just gazed at the computer, realizing he’d been betrayed.

The cops charged over, guns drawn, “You two, show me your hands! Now! Get ‘em up! Out of the booth, nice and slow.” Skye stood up slowly, Ward looked from the computer, to the cops, back to the computer, still trying to sort it all out. “All right, turn around. Hands on your head.” 

Skye warned them softly, “Just be careful. He's armed.”

Ward complied with the instructions, hoping to lull the officers in a false sense of security. He gave one last glance to Skye, as they both raised their hands to the backs of their heads. It was a glance that spoke volumes; full of concern, hurt, and warning. 

Time was up. He took a deep breath, and as the office reached for his wrist, to bring it to the handcuffs, Ward struck. He spun quickly out of the man’s grasp, hitting him in the ribs, before a couple of kicks to bring him to the ground. He threw the other officer over the bar, which also freed Skye, and took a step after her. But the first officer was already getting up and grabbed him from behind. More officers came out of nowhere to jump on him. That helpless feeling he hated more than anything, swelled up inside as Skye jammed the laptop into her bag and ran out the front door. 

“Skye!” he screamed in desperation. He had to get back to her, he couldn’t let her slip away, whether more for Garrett or himself, he had no clue. His right elbow drove back into the stomach of the policeman behind him, before flipping another over his shoulder onto the ground. He lunged forward to grab another in a headlock and grabbed a glass, before smashing it on the officer’s head. His left leg swept out knocking the fourth one to the floor and finally he was free to dash out the door.

He got there just in time to see Skye picking a fight with the cops by the car, shoving them to get them to take her seriously. “No, no. I am an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., a wanted fugitive. Take me in. Come on! What are you doing?! Get me out of here!”

 

“That's it! Come on,” the officer yelled.

“I'll do whatever you-” was all she could get out before two gunshots rang out, and each officer fell to the ground. 

Ward was expert enough to take the cops down without killing them, one in the hip and the other in the shoulder. Without the uniformed men there to help her, she dove for the front seat of their car. 

He yelled after her, “Skye, don't run. You don't understand!” The tires squealed loudly as she stomped on the gas. “I'm not trying to hurt you!” But it was useless. There was no way he could catch up with her. That heavy feeling of failure fell over him and practically knocked him to the ground. How on earth could he explain this to Garrett?

He watched the car speed away from him, when suddenly something fell out of the sky and landed on the hood. He couldn’t see exactly what was happening, but the brake lights came on, he heard glass shattering, and Skye’s screams reached his ears. The car hadn’t even come to a stop before he was running as fast as he could to her. As he came up alongside the car, he could finally see what was going on. Deathlok was crouched on the hood of the car, having punched through the windshield, gripping Skye’s throat. She was struggling and trying to loosen his hold on her, but it was obvious she didn’t have the strength or leverage to accomplish it. Without a second thought, Grant wrenched open the door and twisted Mike’s wrist until he let go of Skye. She immediately started coughing, trying to catch her breath, and Ward pulled her from the car. 

“What the _fuck_ do you think you are doing?” Ward snarled with every ounce of venom in his body, challenging Mike. He kept his hand on Skye as she recovered, but made sure he was between her and the man who was just attacking her. 

“You were letting her get away. Someone had to stop her,” Mike replied coolly. 

“By trying to kill her?! How was that helping anyone?”

“She’ll be fine. See? She’s already perking up.” 

 

Ward turned to look at the girl in question. She seemed to have caught her breath and was realizing what was going on. In a flash, she tensed and her eyes darted around looking for the best escape route. But Ward already tightened his grip on her bicep and reached over to grab the other arm, effectively cutting off the possibility of running. 

“Skye, stop. It’s going to be okay. Let me explain.”

“What explanation could you possibly give? Let me go!” She tried to shake out of his grasp.

“ _Stop._ I’m going to keep you safe.”

“From what?! You’re the one who’s Hydra!” Her shaking was getting more erratic as her voice grew higher and louder.

“Skye, please, just listen to me.”

“Right, because that’s worked out so-” Her voice cut out mid-sentence, and she started convulsing. Ward jumped forward to scoop her into his arms. It was then he realized Deathlok had crept over to them and shot her with a taser disc, knocking her unconscious.

“Come on. We need to get out of here,” the enhanced man stated. Ward grimaced, but reluctantly followed him back to the SUV that would return them to the BUS.

* * * * * *

The cargo bay of the BUS was a place Ward had spent a lot of time with Skye. Training, loading and unloading the vehicles, going to and from the lab with Fitzsimmons. But never like this, with her unconscious and slumped against the wall while he paced and locked horns with a man with cybernetics.

“You should be thanking me. I saved your ass,” Mike argued.

“You didn't save my ass,” he bit out sarcastically. “You turned it into a public spectacle.”

Not one to back down, Mike responded, ”You let her get one over on you. That's exactly what Garrett was afraid of.”

“And Garrett told you to stay out of sight,” Ward poked Deathlok in the chest. 

“He ordered me to shadow you.” Ward’s face remained stoic, even as he struggled with this new information. Knowing John didn’t trust him to complete the mission on his own burned his insides. “He knew you had a soft spot for Skye and she might take advantage of it.”

His lips pursed a little more, and unconsciously, his voice softened, “Well, he was wrong. We have her. And once she gives us a location, we'll be off.”

“Yeah, that's not gonna happen,” came Skye’s quiet declaration drew both of their attention. They hadn’t realized she was awake and standing once again.

Ward turned to Mike, his tone slipping back into Agent Ward, the SO, “Take a walk. I can handle this.” All he needed was to get her alone, without Mike and Garrett watching him (because he knew Garrett was keeping a close eye on him through Mike’s artificial eye), and then he could convince her to cooperate. Hopefully, without having to threaten her, let alone follow through on any such threats.

“Can you? You haven't so far,” she challenged. 

Ward couldn’t tear his eyes away from her face. He couldn’t move a muscle. He just stared at her, trying with everything in him to figure out how he was going to do this. And failing at reconciling how much he didn’t want to.

Mike looked down and to the side for a moment, almost like he was seeing something else, then remarked, “Garrett says you have 5 minutes.”

That got Ward to divert his attention, even if only slightly. He turned his head and took a breath, as if to say something, but nothing came out, so he just nodded as Mike walked away. 

Finally, he had a quiet moment and private place to have this conversation. He faced her head on and took a deep breath, “I can explain.”

She gave him an infuriated but deeply hurt look, then charged at him, “Lying bastard!” She shoved him in the chest and he just let her. She wasn’t going to hurt him and he deserved it. “Son of a bitch!” She screamed as she punched him square in the jaw. He just took a step back, understanding her need to lash out. “You lying-” 

“Stop. Stop. Stop!” She wasn’t stopping, so he grabbed her arms to subdue her. She kept pushing him, struggling to get free, so she could keep hitting him. The noises she made, these heartbroken, angry little grunts filled his ears and made his chest ache. He walked backwards, her pursuing him, but got a hold of her arms, until she finally stilled. “Calm down. Okay? Okay? It's over. You can't win.”

Skye looked him straight in the eye, took a breath and smashed her forehead into his nose. He could feel something in his face crunch and give way. 

He twisted her arms behind her back. “Stop,” he growled as he clicked the handcuff around her right wrist and then the pole on the stairwell. Now that she was secure, he took a moment to grab a towel for his bleeding nose and to get a breath. He walked back over, shaking his head at her, taking in her defiant stare.

With tears in her eyes, but steel in her voice, she spoke. “All this time, everything we've been through ... why? How could you?”

He couldn’t even maintain eye contact. His ashamed eyes slid to the side, “I was on a mission. It wasn't personal.”

Shock and amazement read all over her face. "It wasn’t… You did not just say that! ‘It wasn't personal’?!” It was obvious it was nothing but personal to her. 

 

“Skye,” his voice quiet, calm, and with an edge of pleading, “Listen to me.”

“God, I might actually believe that. You ... that I... that is the twisted logic that they teach you when you sign up to be a Nazi.”

Now he was the one confused. How did she get there? “Stop. Wait. I'm not a Nazi.” 

“Yes, you are,” she continued. “That is exactly what you are. It's in the S.H.I.E.L.D. handbook, chapter one. The Red Skull, founder of Hydra, was a big, fat, freaking Nazi.”

Sometimes her black and white way of seeing the world grated on him. Sure, that was where Hydra came from, but he wasn’t involved in any of that crap. “That has nothing to do with today.” 

She kept on with her diatribe, as if she hadn’t even heard him. “You know, you always had that Hitler youth look to you. So it's really not that surprising.”

It was a struggle, but he maintained the patient tone to his voice, “It's not like that. I'm a spy. I had a job.”

“You've killed I don't know how many people. You gonna kill me now?” Skye took a step back from him, almost like she believed he would do just that, and that painful knife in his heart was pushed in a little deeper.

“No,” he said with conviction. “I would never hurt you.” He would protect her with his life. He never wanted to be the cause of her pain, and it was killing him that he was right now. 

Her voice softened, the hurt she felt coming to the surface. “Once I crack the drive, are you just gonna shoot me like you did with Thomas Nash, or are you gonna have someone else do it, like you did with Quinn?”

“I didn't know that was gonna happen. That was all Garrett.” Anger at the recrimination that he was involved in that bled into his words.

“Oh, of course it was Garrett's fault. That was part of "the mission," right?” Her sarcasm was getting the better of her, but that stricken look still haunted her eyes. “Just gonna kick back and watch me bleed until it's your turn to pull the trigger.”

The accusation thrown there at his feet; he felt both doused in ice water and a fiery passion running through his veins. 

“You think I had a part in that? That I would let that happen to you?” His voice had never sounded like that before, so pinched and astonished, just more evidence of how much she had changed him. “You know how I feel about you, Skye.” 

The incredulity on her face shook him to his core. She didn’t believe him. “Wait. So even though you've been lying to everyone about everything, you're saying that your feelings for me…”

Ward cut in, “They're real, Skye. They always have been.” He cupped her face, trying to convey reassurance through his touch. He begged her with his eyes, pouring in every ounce of love and comfort he felt. She took a deep breath, and for a moment, hope flared with him; he could feel they were on a precipice. He moved his hand to smooth her hair. 

And she pulled back from him, moving out of his grasp.

“I'm gonna throw up.” The tears in her eyes finally fell. As did every every shred of optimism left in his battered soul. 

There they were, two hearts broken to pieces on the floor. A mountain of betrayal, hurt, and emotion between them. 

But if there was anything Grant Douglas Ward was used to, it was picking up the shattered pieces of his life, and moving forward. The fire that had fueled him for years took over and he snarled back at her.

“Do you, do you think this has been easy for me? Do you have any idea how hard it was? The sacrifices, the decisions I had to make? But I made them. Because that's what I do. I'm a survivor.”

 

Her face was deeply anguished, yet she didn’t shrink from his anger. “You are a serial killer,” she hissed brokenly. 

His jaw flexed as her words stung him. 

“And you know what? You were right about one thing. I wouldn't like the real you.” She looked so sad. 

He had lost her, there was no way he’d ever get her back. But Ward knew something she didn’t. He’d been betrayed and hurt before, and he knew what always came later. He didn’t wish it on her, but he knew it would happen. 

“Someday…” he said softly. “Someday, you'll understand.” 

“No, I won't,” the tears thick in her throat, then her natural defiance rose. “And I will never... **ever…** give you what you want.”

All he could do was stare at her as she sat down. All his energy was focused on not letting out the utter despair he felt, not bowing under the immense sorrow and howling his pain at the world. His tormented eyes followed her movement and took in the desolation his choices had caused. He quietly withdrew from the area, there was nothing more to say, and nothing else in them with which to say it.

* * * * * *

Ward stalked back into the cargo bay with Mike right behind him. He saw Skye had been yanking on the cuffs, trying to extricate her hand from it. Deathlok had informed him of Garrett’s latest orders. They were out of time and options. He couldn’t do anything more for Skye now. She either cooperated or she got hurt, it was up to her. Once again, Ward drew on his lifelong survivor skills and compartmentalized. His feelings for Skye got shoved into a box and pushed aside. Hydra Agent Grant Ward was now in charge and he would get results.

“Time's up. You can tell me where to unlock the drive, or you can tell him,” he said nodding at Mike.

She looked at him, then turned and focused on Mike. “Mike... Please. I know you don't want to do this.”

“It's not up to me,” he growled in a barely controlled voice.

She maintained eye contact, trying to reach the good man buried below all the machinery. “Yes, it is. I don't care what they did to you. You're still Mike Peterson. You're still a father. You have a son.” 

“Who I left in your hands. I asked you to look after him, Skye. Where is he now?”

“He's with his aunt, under the protection of a SHIELD team,” she said righteously.

“And what is SHIELD today?” he sneered. “Hydra can hurt my son anytime they want, and if I get any funny ideas about rescuing him, they push a little button and blow a hole in my skull.” 

“FitzSimmons will figure out a way,” she pled.

“No,” he barked. “There's no way out of this, Skye. Tell us _how_ to unlock the drive.”

Ward was watching this from where he leaned against the lab door. He tried his damnedest not to let himself feel any pride at the way Skye stood up to Deathlok. Because that meant he was still feeling anything for her, and that was unacceptable now. _It is a weakness._

“No.”

Ward reacted immediately, pushing himself off the door. “Damn it, Skye!”

She still refused to look at him or even acknowledge he was there or involved in this conversation. Her focus still solely on Mike, “You could have shot me back in Italy, but you didn't. They made Quinn do it because there's still good in you, Mike, and I don't think you're gonna hurt me.”

The man took a deep breath, eyes never wavering. “You're right,” he ground out. “I won't hurt you.”

Before anyone knew what was going on, Deathlok turned, raised his arm, and shot some disc that landed right on Ward’s chest. The force of the hit knocked Ward back against the lab wall and the disc quickly latched onto his skin. The lights glowed and the air was knocked straight out of him. Pain erupted in his chest and it felt like it was every where. He was gasping desperately for breath, trying to assess what just happened and what was hurting him, as he stumbled to the floor. 

Skye breathlessly asked, “What? What...what did you do to him?”

Mike remained stoic, “Stopped his heart.”

_This is how I die._

“His heart?” she whispered.

“Isn't beating. He's having a heart attack. I can restart it or not. It's your choice.”

Ward writhed on the floor, realizing his only salvation was a woman who hated him. She looked down at him, clearly conflicted. “Skye…” he wheezed. He wasn’t sure whether he was pleading with her or saying goodbye. What was the difference at this point? 

Her gaze remained focus on him as he panted. “You think I don't want to watch him suffer?” The flatness of her tone shocked even him.

“Not suffer, **die.** ” Mike wasn’t pulling any punches. He was making sure Skye knew exactly what her choices were. “Garrett doesn't think you're gonna let that happen.”

 _Of course, this was all from Garrett._ Garrett was clearly willing and able to surrender Ward’s life to accomplish the mission. No matter what Ward had given up for his mentor over the years, Ward was expendable. If there was any more breath left in his lungs, it would have left at that realization.

“He's a murderer,” she rationalized, as she looked down on him again with a sneer.

“Yes, he is. Are you?”

Ward stilled. The last words he would ever hear in his life, were from the woman he loved calling him a murderer, and another man turning her into one as well, all based on orders from the father figure he had dedicated his life to saving. Grant Ward never felt more pitiful and alone than he did in this moment. The fight left him and his vision started to blacken at the edges.

He vaguely heard Skye huffing and yanking on the cuffs, as if she was trying to pace, but kept getting yanked back by her bonds. 

“Okay, stop,” were her quiet, but firm words. 

“Where do you unlock the drive?” was the even reply.

“Bring him back!” she cried.

“Where?” he demanded.

“35,000 feet. It's not based on longitude and latitude. It's altitude,” she rattled off.

“You're lying,” Mike accused.

“I'm not!” she shouted. “You...I put the password in and I, I start the hack. And once we reach altitude, it unlocks. Now bring him back!”

Relief flooded Ward’s senses as his lungs expanded and his heart started hammering again. Whatever had stopped it had relinquished its hold on him and his body was coming back to life. He rolled onto his back, gulping in air as quickly as he could, grabbing at the wall for leverage to sit up.

 

He could hear Skye’s handcuffs being released. He spared a look over at her, only to find her watching him. So many emotions were flitting across her face. Relief, disgust, hurt, affection, sadness, and resignation, all flew by in a fraction of a second. But he saw them. 

“Put the password in. Start the hack. No tricks.” Mike marched her out of the bay, into the lab to carry through his instructions. He stomped back in and pulled Ward to a standing position. 

“You... you son of a bitch,” Ward grunted, still in so much pain and unable to get a full breath.

“Now get the plane in the air,” Mike commanded.

“I can't,” he exclaimed. “I can barely stand.”

The cybernetic arm flexed and all of a sudden Ward was standing taller. It must have released adrenaline or something. The bone crushing fatigue had vanished, leaving him with strength. His mind could focus again and everything snapped back into focus.

“That should help,” Mike said as he patted Ward’s cheek and walked away. 

Ward stared after him, still breathing heavily, but feeling murderous nonetheless. Once more he survived, though this time had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with the girl he was watching work on the computer. She saved him. It cost her dearly, but she saved him and was cooperating with Garrett’s orders. He would never forgive himself for letting her be forced into this. But he was too far gone to turn back now. He made it way to the cockpit and prepared for take off when he faced down another plane on the tarmac. SHIELD had found them. 

A short conversation with Maria Hill later and Ward had the BUS in the air. But her last words to him rang in his ears.

“This doesn't have to go down like this, Ward. You don't owe Garrett anything,” she had told him, imploring him to change his mind.

“You're wrong,” had been his simple reply before he shut off communications and pushed the plane into the air.

 _Was she really wrong?_ It was a question that made his stomach roll. Garrett was all he’d known for so long. Garrett was the one who saved him when his life was over and built him into a man. How could he turn his back on a man who had done that for him? He had only wanted to save the closest person he had to a true father. Ward held very few illusions about morality and good triumphing over evil. That rarely happened in his life. It didn’t matter what his desires or opinions were, they didn’t change anything. Only… Everything had changed when he ended up on Coulson’s team. When he met Skye. That amazing, incomprehensible, unpredictable woman had burrowed under his layers of armor with apparent ease. She was in his soul now and she would never leave. And he had destroyed everything she cared about. He’d brought down the organization she had worked so hard to belong to. He had taken her away from those who were her family now. He had shown her what betrayal felt like, from the ones you let in the closest. 

He had lit the match so long ago. He couldn’t escape the explosion. So he stood there, burning along with it. _It’s what I deserve._


End file.
